Assassin Before Adivsor
by theriku260
Summary: Before Ja'far met Sinbad, he was an assassin. Most- including him- bury that skeleton deep. But that skeleton is what made Ja'far Sinbad's most trusted friend to the end. Follow Ja'far as he struggles with his parent's murder, becoming the perfect assassin, before being reborn as the perfect advisor. T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Assassin before Advisor-1**

 **AN: Hey! My third story- and this one of the Magi Fandom! I was searching for Magi fanfiction and was a little ticked the lack of variety and inspiration compared to other fandoms. Sure, there are many, many amazing Magi fanfics but they follow cannon to a tea or stop being updated after a few chapter- except the diamonds in the rough. So, I decided to help fix this! Enjoy, and know I don't own Magi- just this idea for a fanfic, which I would be open to a more experienced writer fleshing it out.**

 **Ten years before Ja'far meets Sinbad…**

For most parents, childbirth was a joyous time in life. Parents counted down the days till they joined the ranks of mankind's most esteemed calling, and the addition to a young couple's family would be remembered as a treasured moment.

Most parents are not assassins, however. The young Layla and Zephyr were known as Sham Lash's top killers- all at the tender age of twenty one. Neither wanted children- who would wish anyone to the hell that was Parthevia? But orders were orders and the two loyal operatives birthed an assassin to be. Layla screamed in pain as a new life was born into the decrepid world she knew. Zephyr was on an assignment so the only comfort she received were the midwife's encouragements.

"Ja'far" Layla breathed moments after her son breathed his initial taste of the underground air. It would be the first and last time she would see her baby as her own. Already a foster family was lined up to take the place of his real one, for she and Zephyr were too important to sacrifice for Sham Lash's initiation.

"This one will be strong, much like his parents. Good work, Layla. Rest for a week before resuming duties." Her master, the head assassin, said from the shadows. She offered no words of encouragement to her progeny or a second glance as the midwife took the newborn away to his temporary home in a nearby village, hiding her agony as the child screamed at being ripped away. It was better this way, Layla reasoned. The next time she saw him would be after Ja'far had his first kill- his "parents"- at anywhere between six and ten years old.

Such was life. Now Layla would lie to herself for eternity that she did the best thing, letting him leave her side without a struggle. The darkness of her world would infect him, all for a cause nobody could discern. Casting those thoughts away she closed her eyes; time to revert back to a puppet and not a grieving mother.

 **Home of Inari and Tsubaki…**

Tsubaki and Inari, two stolen orphans from the eastern countries were older than most assassins. They had lived to their early forties and became useless to the organization as field workers. For awhile they were both in the medic and conditioning branches for the recruits of Sham Lash until they had a miscarriage without any ability to conceive again.

So they became nesters for another operative's child. Their job was to train the baby thrust upon them and when the time came allow him to kill them, all for the purpose of killing his heart. Normal humans would be mortified by the long-term suicide mission but the couple viewed it as an honor to die in such a way.

"Oh, little Ja'far, one of these days you will be the most powerful assassin in the world, I can just feel it." Tsubaki cooed and raised the infant to her breast that was meant for the child that never breathed. Inari looked on sadly, knowing this marked the end of his partner and best friend- they had at most a decade of life before the innocent ball of snow white hair slaughtered them both for the good of Sham Lash.

 **Five years later…**

Ja'far scowled at the human shaped target, believing it mocked him as his blade refused to hit one of the eight kill shots.

"Here, Ja'far, try it this way." His father demonstrated a looser grip and rope. Ja'far followed and instantly his darts imbedded themselves into the heart and brain. He smiled happily at his father, never noticing the slightly grief filled glance the man sported.

"Well done, my son." That phrase told Ja'far his father was at his proudest and beamed.

Inari stiffened as a familiar aura filled the air. "Ja'far, go inside to your mother and continue your anatomy lessons." Inari ordered, and his adoptive son did so without complaint, showing the results of his upbringing. "Master," Inari kneeled and did the salute of Sham Lash to what appeared to be a tree. A masked man stepped out silently, nodding to his subordinate.

"Impressive for one who just started lessons last week." The master assassin praised. "Definitely a prodigy."

"Yes, master. He studies hard every moment of the day."

"Excellent work ethic and talent- obviously his lineage was a wise choice in pairing."

"Of course, master." Inari knew where this was going, and braced himself.

"I will return for his initiation in nine months- his sixth birthday. Hone his skills well, for Parthevia and the organization."

"Yes, master. It shall be done." With a final salute the man disappeared back into the shadows. Inari stood up and walked back to see his family.

He had every intention of telling Tsubaki they were given their execution date, but when he sees Tsubaki smiling warmly as Ja'far correctly names the bones easiest to be broken for immobilization he stops mid-thought. _Let them have some happiness- I owe her that at least, for everything._

"Ah, Inari dear, everything alright?" Tsubaki tilted her head in question, noticing his quieter than normal demeanor. Inari nodded and ruffled his son's hair.

"Everything's perfect, dear." For the next nine months he had a family, a son. When those nine months came to a close he and his partner of thirty something years would pass on, leaving behind a broken boy.

A broken boy with every skill Inari can give him. It was the least he could do for nurturing his heart and ripping it out.

Not that it would change his evil soul to pure.

"Good, Inari. Why don't you demonstrate how to dislocate your fingers for escape? You always were better at it than me."

 **Day Ja'far turns six…**

Something was different today, and it wasn't that he turned another year older. Ja'far could feel it- a vile atmosphere was thick in the air. The six year old tried to climb into his father's lap for comfort, only to be brushed aside and told to help his mother in the kitchen.

Breakfast was a solemn affair, and both his parents had tears in their eyes, which confused Ja'far. His parents never cried, not even when his mother was stabbed in the stomach during a spar last month. She just glided inside, silent as usual, and patched herself up.

"Mother, Father…" Ja'far stopped at his mother's hiccup and embrace.

"Be strong, Ja'far. Never lose yourself. Never blacken your soul like I did _for years. I love you." Those words were spoken before he was pushed to the_ ground. Twenty men in cloaks and different masks surrounded him and his family.

"W-what's going on?" He asked as a stone settled in his stomach. Ja'far looked to his father who refused to meet his gaze.

"Ja'far. You have been chosen to join Parthevia's Sham Lash. Before that though… you must kill your parents." A deep voice spoke from the crowd. Ja'far shook in a cold sweat at the man's carelessness with his parent's lives. His parents mentioned Parthevia's shadows before, but he thought it was a myth- apparently it wasn't.

"No! I don't want to join- not if it means killing my family." Ja'far mustered courage even as the looming presence of the voice frightened him. To his fright the voice chuckled.

"You don't understand, young one. Either kill them…or they kill you." His father drew a dagger as his mother wielded a short sword. Their eyes held no warmth or love that they had the day before.

"Defend yourself, my son." His father spoke tonelessly. With that Ja'far stared at the dagger as it travled towards him. Ja'far prepared to die- he wouldn't murder his parents.

But instinct took over, survival kicked in and his nimble body, flexible after constant dislocations, flew above the blade. He tucked in his knees and held his knife in his right hand. Never noticing how his father carelessly exposed his jugular- something he _never_ did, Ja'far performed an impeccable downing slice. His father. His role model. His teacher. All three dropped like rocks and gurgled even as the blood pooled around him.

"W-well done, m-my s-s-son." The familiar phrase passed by and with a final rattle of breath Inari went to the rukh.

No time to mourn as his mother swings her short sword, slicing a few hairs off. Ja'far turns to run, to get away rather than kill her, but it wouldn't be. Tsubaki, with the grace and speed only achieved through years of work, sliced her son's legs, from ankle to upper calf, right below the knee. Enough to scar, not kill.

It would be her legacy as she fell to her own knees in resignation. Ja'far, still going on adrenaline sent his dagger into her heart, assuming her falling down was preparation for another attack.

"Remember, heart" she whispered before passing on to be with her partner and lover. Ja'far ran out into the frosty weather, ignoring the bloody footprints he left behind.

"M-mother! Father! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" On and on the six year old sobbed over the death of his two precious people. His tears never stopped and when the medic on standby delivers a quick chop to knock him out he welcomes the darkness.

"They played their roles perfectly" The Master commented as the newest and most promising recruit was sewn back together in the thick blanket of snow. Ja'far completed his task in less than ten minutes- half the time of most other children, even those from completely civilian homes or were older. "Though I would have preferred Tsubaki not giving him scars in the legs- will they heal or will he be a cripple?" There was no use for cripples, and if the woman cut him out of a last minute rebellion there would be hell to pay. Thankfully the medic shook his head.

"No, master. These will mark, not maim. He will be ready for further training in five days."

"Very well then. Sleep well, Ja'far. Tomorrow your new life begins."

 **End! So this is my take on Ja'far's past. Ja'far has always been my favorite Magi and Sinbad character. Even though he didn't get many lines and his past was not that well explained, seeing the scene of him crying in the snow heart wrenching and felt his story deserved more time to develop. This seemed to be a somewhat reasonable origin story- I figure Sham Lash wouldn't sacrifice two well trained assassins simply for their child's initiation- adoptive family was more plausible, but leaving a child with someone who couldn't train him would set Ja'far back strength-wise. I plan to update semi-regularly, but my main concern right now is ANBU's Mascot- check it out for some laughs if you ever watched Naruto!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Assassin Before Advisor- 2**

 **AN: Riku here. My apologies, but I sort of forgot about the story! However, I was watching a music video with the song 'The Way' by Zach Hemsway and realized how perfectly it fit Ja'far's life- the tone of it anyways. So, once again my interest was piqued so here we are.**

 **I don't own Magi. If I did, Sinbad wouldn't be evil at all and Ja'far would have more lines.**

 **Flashback, during Ja'far's fifth year…**

 __ _"Once upon a time, there were two brothers who ran away from home. Both loved the other as they went on many adventures. One, the kind and charismatic older brother, while the other was a cunning and shrewd younger sibling." Tsubaki's kind voice cooed while a five year old Ja'far listened in rapt attention. "Throughout their youth they became very rich, with power even the Rukh bowed to. Everywhere they went, people followed."_

 _"And then they wanted to make a home!" Ja'far cut in eagerly. Tsubaki snorted but nodded._

 _"What was the name of this place they wanted to make home?"_

 _"Hehe, that's easy: Parthevia!" Ja'far puffed up in pride._

 _"Correct little one. And so they conquered three countries with those that swore loyalty. The older brother was the voice, but the younger brother was the sword; he was said to have killed ten thousand men by himself, all with a smile on his face…" Here Tsubaki trailed off before continuing. "_

" _Then came the question of who would rule their new home. A war between the people threatened to break out, the brothers caught between. Neither wished for their home to fall into ruin, did they?" She asked. The white-haired child shook his head viciously._

 _"No!" He squeaked._

 _"Right, so the younger brother faked his own death, before turning to the shadows, Ja'far. Ever since that day hundreds of years ago, the legends speak of a shadowy group who protect Parthevia, all disciples of that brother's teachings."_

 _"Sham Lash" Ja'far breathed. The child thought the story was amazing and began fantasying about what said group would do. Perhaps rescue the princess or give tea to the king?_

 _"You're spacing out." Inari's voice broke through the boy's thoughts. The former assassin had come in from killing some bandits who threatened the town's cattle, flicking the blood off his knife casually._

 _"Sorry Father." Ja'far said sheepishly and smiled at the head pat he received._

 _"I know."_

 _"But, why did the younger brother fake his own death?" Ja'far asked with intelligence beyond his ears. Both his parents blinked._

 _"What do you mean my little moon?" Tsubaki asked with a flicker of interest._

 _"Well… if the younger brother was stronger than his older brother, why not become the king himself? Why did he have to disappear?" Inari looked troubled at the level of thought his son was displaying, but Tsubaki sighed._

 _"Because, my little one, that is what it means to be family, to give up your own happiness for someone else's. It's what it means…"_

 _"Means what, mother?"_

 _"It's what it means to have a heart, Ja'far."_

 **End Flashback, Five days after Ja'far's initiation…**

The boy from those days was dead, Ja'far decided while laying on his cot. His eyes stared blankly at the dusty underground walls as the bandages on his face did little to filter the musty scent.

 _'Mother, Father… what is a heart? And what am I?'_ He thought, flashing back to his perfect kills of the people that loved him unconditionally.

Dark thoughts began snaking through his head, making him curl up into a ball. Clutching his head, Ja'far tried to ignore the taunts that spoke in the voices of his parents.

 _ **'Evil….'**_ They murmured…

 _ **'Vile…'**_

 _ **'We loved you…'**_

 _ **'I fed you even during the famine!'**_ His mother's ghostly voice accused, reminding him of the time food was so scarce even flies went hungry.

 _ **'Worse than dirt…'**_ His father snarled.

 _ **'MURDERER!'**_ Images of the corpses flashed into Ja'far's mind.

On and on he was bombarded, until the door to his room swung open on its iron hinges. A woman who shared the same hair color and slight build stood in the entryway with the keys that unlocked every door in the place swinging on her belt.

"Hn… come." Was her simple order before walking away. Ja'far blinked and hesitated.

Bad move.

"I said, come!" The woman snapped, making the boy genius jump and scuttle after her. Ja'far ignored his injuries, as he viewed his legs as some kind of punishment.

 _'Mother gave these to me… her final revenge. I deserved to die… but I didn't want to… I wanted to live.'_ That last thought caught Ja'far by surprise.

His musings were cut short from further reflection however when the woman stopped without warning in a large circular room. On the edges were over a dozen other children dressed in rags like himself.

"Try to kill me before I kill you." Was the woman's simple command before Ja'far was launched into the wall, vaguely aware of a child's hand that gifted him a knife.

 **With Layla…**

The still youthful Layla kept her emotions in check while testing her son out in the training room.

 _'No, not your son. You never had a child, this is just another recruit. Even if he moves as gracefully as you do.'_ She berated herself while catching a knife aimed at her kidney.

Seeing Ja'far sobbing while killing his adoptive family was the hardest thing Layla had to do, knowing she was so close yet so far from the baby she birthed.

Beating the snot out of him to make him less likely to die early was the easiest. The assassin blocked the child's blows, surprised when minute cuts opened on various kill spots. Ja'far's blade was too dull to deal a mortal blow- all training weapons were- but was sharp enough to point cause scratches. Scratches that made Layla look weak. The woman steeled her eyes at the boy's triumphant gleam and did a roundhouse kick, landing with her back to him.

 _'It's for his own good.'_ She decided as she heard the sickening crunch that indicated broken ribs. Layla was about to call it quits, knowing Ja'far had already proven to be field ready after lasting four minutes with her. She raised her blade, prepared to turn around and knock him out as a simulated death, only to find her hand unable to move.

Attached to her wrist was the bloody bandages that were previously on Ja'far's legs, pinned to the floor by the training knives.

Mother and son stared off as one was pinned and the other struggled to sit up. A legend was born as Ja'far glared into the woman who birthed him eyes.

"I'll… kill you first… Because I want to live." Was his growl. The children around the room whispered about the boy who dared to stare down Sham Lash's second best assassin, the one believed to become the next head of the organization.

"Tsk, we'll see." Was Layla's reply as the bandages seemed to magically fall apart. The last thing Ja'far saw before blackness overtook him was a foot headed for his face.

 _'You'll do fine, my son…'_

 **Next day, training…**

Sham Lash required each of their assassins to know the ins and outs of various weapons and tools. They were to be able to pick up anything and kill their targets like it was nothing. Death was supposed to be graceful, according to the weapons' instructor Rita. The woman was shorter than many of the children, yet her burned face, graying hair, and wise eyes spoke of one drawing near death. Not that she would go down before beating sense into her students, that is.

"This is a Sham Lash secret style known only to our kind, one of our signature killing styles. Always make it a dance!" She barked out a last reminder to the sitting children between the ages of six and twelve. Here Rita focused her blue eyes on the resident genius who trapped Layla for a moment on his first day, the one rumored to have killed his parents while laughing.

Said boy was dead looking and just began practicing the various combinations for the rope daggers he was assigned for the day. Ja'far knew all of them, going through the moves absently as he wistfully thought about the months practicing with his father in the same manner.

Then the sickening realization hit.

 _'Father… how did you know the Sham Lash style? Or the history come to think of it?'_

Rita watched in confusion as the previously stoic and hard working boy who effortlessly ran through the advanced moves stopped and stared at the ground. With a shrug, the older woman wacked the recruit on his head and moved on, figuring he'd start working.

Ja'far stood motionlessly as the pieces to his life clicked together, his parents' betrayal kicking in… and their un-willingness to kill him. Then, he couldn't help it: he laughed, choosing to forget his mother's last words. Manic laughter caused many of the children around him to back off, not wishing to be around one so skilled yet obviously unhinged. So, they left Ja'far alone as he flew into fluid motions with thoughts about how his life finally made sense yet was impossible to understand.

When it came time to create groups of three for knife practice, no one dared approach the albino, some recognizing the signs of someone figuring out why their parents tried to kill them. Half of the class went through the same feeling while the war orphan half thought Ja'far was going to lose it. So, they stayed away.

None, except two orphan teens, both outcasted for their abilities and mediocre talent compared to others.

"Hi, you're Ja'far, right? I'm Vittel, and this is Mahad; would you like to be in our group?" The shorter one with purple hair asked, figuring he'd be nice to the runt many said would become legend. The one named Mahad just waved. Ja'far gazed at the pair impassively.

"Tsk… Fine. Get in my way though and I'll kill you."

"Right, sure thing." Vittel gulped and wondered if he made the right choice in talking to the boy almost nine years their junior. Fortunately and unfortunately for the two war orphans, their decision that day would tie them to the homicidal child on his road from the darkness to the light.

 **Weeks later, Sham Lash's mission chamber…**

Three young assassins knelt in front of the most dangerous man in Parthevia, the one would could kill with a feather yet make it look like suicide. The man who hand picked each operative and held the power to snuff their lives out on a whim.

The head assassin, Shaka.

"Usually, I would not send three young tools on an assignment alone before one is over fifteen, but I wish to test you. Do not fail me." Shaka hissed, his eyes sharpening in the candle light. Two of the three boys gulped despite being almost fifteen while the other met the gaze evenly.

"Who is to die, master?" Ja'far asked tonelessly. Since the puzzle pieces clicked into place, that his parents were part of the organization, Ja'far grew colder than ice. He hardly spoke and never asked questions except those pertaining to killing. The genius in killing hardly noticed the two that followed his orders and always got paired up with him on exercises.

They were just bugs under his feat, much like the practice assassination targets brought in. Ja'far killed his team's target before a minute passed, the Parthevian prisoner who was promised freedom if he escaped the labyrinth like base dying to a glossy eyed albino. Vittel and Mahad wisely kept quiet.

"The Prince's mistress; she is with child while he is yet to be married. The King does not wish to let the royal blood be tainted by a commoner's. They are here" A bony finger points to the colored region the boys associated with a nearby providence. Though illiterate, Sham Lash assassins found ways to navigate the world to complete their master's wishes. "In a small village near the border. Don't disappoint me. Now go!"

And swiftly into the night, three figures flittered across the land, ready to send souls to the Rukh.

 **End! Next chapter: First missions and Ja'far's darkness. A couple of things:**

If your parents taught you nothing but how to kill than tried to kill you… you'd figure out there was something fishy. Ja'far doesn't know what it is exactly, but he feels betrayed. I figured the reason Ja'far changed his whole world view for Sinbad was because he was never loyal to Sham Lash. He's just a scared kid who decided killing was easier than being kind. Ja'far turns out the way he does (laughing at Sinbad about killing, and 'enjoying it') because that's his coping mechanism. Children can't keep their humanity intact if it's too painful emotionally for them. In this case, Ja'far's 'heart' reminds him too much of his mother.

The flash back… eh, I thought it was a cool way to think of the organization. In this story, Sham Lash began as the shadow for the original king, a way for his younger brother who didn't want to rule still help his brother out without being caught in various factions. History shows that younger siblings can be groomed as heirs by advisors to become puppet kings. So, the younger brother used his skills in war to become the sword of his brother… but then it gets twisted like most traditions.

This story is only set to be 3 to 5 chapters, so I'll try to update quicker. Anyways, hope you enjoyed my take on Ja'far's past!

Riku


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